Marigold Tears
by Makayla Kelley
Summary: I don't know why it hurt so badly, but I know it hurt everyday he was away. Leah. For now just a oneshot.


Some people say that you never know what you have until you lose it, and once you lose it, you can never get it back. I feel that way at times with my heart.

I loved Sam Uley more than I could possibly express. I wish it was something I could explain, something I could show. Maybe if I could show that capacity of love, the guys wouldn't think I was such a heartless bitch.

I don't mean to be so difficult. I know how hard it is on my mom and Seth. I never let anyone in but my father and Sam, and look at how good that turned out. They both left me. So I just learned to shut people out. I figured that if I shut everything out, if I locked myself up like a watertight room, nothing could get in and hurt me.

I was wrong. I was so worried about protecting myself from the things on the outside, that I didn't realize that all the real hurt came from the inside.

All my hurt, the rejection from Sam and the death of my father, bottled up inside me, suppressed and withheld. Every time I even thought of talking about it or expressing it to other people, I pushed it back down.

When Sam left me for Emily, I want to say that I didn't understand it. It would have been easier if he had cheated on me or abused me. All those things were commonly understandable in this day and age. But imprinting? Finding your true soul mate in someone? It's impossible to be angry with the person.

I was never angry with Sam.

I was only angry at the situation, and at God, or whoever run the stupid world. To this day I still don't know which I would rather believe. That Sam didn't ever care, or that he just stopped caring for me.

If he didn't ever care, then everything he ever told me was lie.

But if he stopped caring, then that meant that I wasn't good enough, I was worthless and replaceable.

I guess when I look at it I know that of course, I'm going to get my heart broken. And it isn't just going to this happen once, but a lot. That's just part of growing up, and it makes you stronger. Then you can handle it better next time. You may not get through it yourself, but your friends will help you through it. And you'll be a stronger person because of it. Then one day someone will come along, and it'll all pay off and no one will ever break your heart again, it just the simple fact and rule of life. But maybe that's why I don't have friends. I feel as though I deserve whatever pain God dishes out to me, Lord knows I've given it to everyone else. But I just can't help it. I feel so mad whenever I see anyone the slightest bit happy. After all I had been a good kid growing up. I was a good person when I was going out with Sam too. So why did this happen to me? Why was I the one to suffer such heartbreak? And why am I reminded every single day of that heartbreak?

Every time I see him kissing or holding Emily, I lose my breath, my heart starts pounding, and I am painfully aware that I am not over him and he is over me.

I can't breathe without Sam, sitting here on this park bench that is something I am painfully aware of. My eyes drift over the setting sun. The sun was the color of blood. The cold October air swept over my skin. Even with my body temperature I could feel it.

Out in the distance a wolf- probably Jacob- howled. I knew what I was suppose to do, I was suppose to spring into action and phase. I was suppose to go meet the pack and see Sam and act like nothing was out of the ordinary. I was suppose to bear all of the guy's telling me to just pick up the damn broken pieces of the past and move on. But I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mending whole was good as new. I've learned to accept that what is broken is broken - and I'd rather remember my relationship with Sam as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken and cracked places for as long as I live. A clean break was something that was just impossible for Sam and I. When two people were as in love as Sam and I it's hard for the veins of our hearts not to cross over. A clean break is easy. You just set it and it heals and you move on without a single thought, but if you leave things messy and they don't get put right, then everything just hurts forever; like a cut that keeps splitting open.

My feet move closer and closer to the pond. Looking down I can see it's deep, about seven or eight feet. My feet dip into the shallow end, soaking the ends of my ripped jeans. I pull my sweatshirt over my head, staring at my arms. My arms are marked with scars, scabs, and bruises. Some of them are old scars but most are new. The scars just a portion of the pain I felt on the inside. My heart has so many scars and bruises all over it. I don't know how much just one heart can take really, and I don't really want to find out either.

Staring up at the bright red sky, I know there has to be something more than this. There has to be something beyond the heartbreak. It happens everyday. Everyday people get their heart broken and everyday people move on and find love.

So why can't I?

I've tried so hard to move on, but I feel like something is holding me back. Maybe it's me. Maybe all along it has been me. Maybe I've just been holding everyone back. The pack has already made it quite clear that the only reason Sam didn't ask Emily to marry him soon was because of me, selfish old me.

Neither Sam nor anyone else would ever admit it, but I know everyone thinks things would be a whole a lot better if I just… disappeared.

My body wades into the water until the water laps around my shoulders, the dirt at the bottom squishing under my feet like jelly.

Another howl rips across the park clearing.

I ignore it.

I wish I were stronger than this. I wish I could just trust someone and move on again. It's like once you've been hurt; you're so scared to get attached again. You have this fear that every person you start to fall for, is just going to break your heart again. You learn to cut off any kind of relationship before it augments. After all, you can't lose something you never had.

I sucked in a breath and slowly dipped under the water, my eyes clenched shut.

I knew I wasn't doing this for me; I was doing this for Sam. He would be happy with me gone. You know you truly love someone when all you want is for him or her to be happy, even if that means that you are not a part of it.

My ears picked up the sound of a pained howl even under the clear, deep water. The sound grew, as if there was more than one, and it sound close.

My heart seized as I realized the pack was close, too close. They were probably only a half-mile away.

I opened my mouth, allowing the remaining remnants of oxygen to leave my lungs. Water took the oxygen's place, and I sunk deeper into the water. I still refused to open my eyes. Fire burned down my esophagus, water filling my lungs. My heartbeat slowed in my ears, my blood unable to keep moving.

I felt my limps grow numb, and I knew the blood no longer moving.

With my last bit of strength I mustered up a smile. If I could have laughed I would have. It was ironic; after all, that the first smile I smiled in months was moments before my suicide.

I finally opened my eyes and let the water tilt my head back, the sky was still the same color of red and my heart still ached for Sam.

For a moment I thought I saw a figure of a wolf approach the edge of the pond, but I then realized it was probably my wishful thinking again.

The sweatshirt I had tied around my waist detached itself from me and floated to the top of the water, the thin material floating on the clean water.

It was then that I saw them, the eight tall figures around the pond.

The pack had made it.

But they were too late.

I felt my body shudder as I my heart pumped one last time.

Somewhere up above someone entered the water. But it was too late. I was too far-gone.

I don't know why it hurts so badly, but it hurts everyday. I always knew one day I would get away; I just didn't know it would be like this.

I was weak and I was stupid; I was never really good enough for him.


End file.
